This article contains spoilers for the movie KPop Demon Hunters.Sometimes being a fangirl is a matter of life and death. In the final moments of Netflix’s wildly popular KPop Demon Hunters, a K-pop group called the Saja Boys—whose members are secretly demons—celebrate an award-show victory by performing a new song called “Your Idol” for thousands of adulating fans. “Your obsession feeds our connection / So right now give me all your attention,” they sing. By absorbing the frenzied reverence, the Saja Boys can break through the Honmoon, a fictional barrier that protects humans from the demon world, which would unleash chaos.In a dramatic twist, Huntrix, a girl group made up of the titular demon hunters, take over the concert, successfully drawing the focus of the fans and ensuring the Honmoon’s integrity. The demons are held off; the planet is saved. It’s an apt ending for KPop Demon Hunters, whose vibrant animations, catchy songs, and feel-good messaging have made it Netflix’s most-watched film of all time. The movie’s reception is in many ways the culmination of a perfect storm: K-pop is front and center in a Korean-culture boom whose fans are devoted not only to their favorite musicians, television dramas, and skin-care lines, but also to the sometimes-addictive sense of community behind such artists and products. KPop Demon Hunters goes a step further than simply erecting a believable world around the fictional songs, which have become huge hits in real life—it flips the relationship between fans and artists, transforming fandom from a hobby into an act of creation itself.In the movie, Huntrix is the latest in a line of female heroes who have protected humanity for generations. But the singers don’t hold any inherent power to strengthen the Honmoon—they rely entirely on their followers, whose adoration fuels their abilities. As the members like to remind themselves, “Happy fans, happy Honmoon!” The scope of Huntrix’s fictional audience is emphasized through overhead shots of massive arena concerts, and made more personal by close-ups of the eclectic men, women, and children united through their commitment.But within KPop Demon Hunters is an acknowledgment of the sometimes-parasitic relationship between artist and listener. Early in the film, the Huntrix members head back to their apartment couch after a major concert, excited for a proper break. Within seconds, however, they’re disrupted by the news that the fans love their newest single—perhaps a little too much, forcing them to hop to the next promotional obligation right away, a painfully accurate representation of K-pop’s unsustainable race for attention. In real life, fans may not hold sway over the world’s fate—but they will spend hundreds of dollars for the chance to win a rare photocard or a video call with their favorite idol. The financial stakes—and the race to be a group’s most ardent supporter—breed a cycle in which K-pop artists attempt to cater to fans’ every demand.In the movie, everything that Huntrix does is for the audience. When the Saja Boys first come onto the scene, the Huntrix member Rumi announces dramatically that “this is the battle for hearts and minds. A battle for the fans.” Because their powers are granted by their popularity, their abilities as demon hunters are inextricably tied up with their pop stardom. In this way, the Huntrix fans become an active force for good, as they literally empower the group to save humanity.[Read: I wasn’t a fan of BTS. And then I was.]Many fans who already love K-pop, then, might find it hard not to be charmed by KPop Demon Hunters and its rosy enthusiasm. Though the movie is accessible to new fans, there are plenty of winks and nods for diehards who can understand what might seem, to the uninitiated, like cheesy moments—a cringeworthy English rap verse, a scene parodying the product placement in K-dramas—as self-aware jokes. Through such knowing details, the film appeals to insiders, but also seems to consider the more shallow aspects of Korean pop culture, and whether devotees become inured to a lot of stuff that just isn’t very good.Of course, the fans in this movie are no different from real-life, ordinary people who devote themselves to K-pop because they’re chasing the good stuff—the music they love, made by artists they believe in. But the film also puts forward a darker view: “Watch me set your world on fire,” the Saja Boys sing on “Your Idol.” “You can’t look away / No one is coming to save you.” The band’s overzealous audience doesn’t seem to realize that “Your Idol” is not so much a tribute to the shared bond between the Saja Boys and their listeners, but an eerie acknowledgment of the unilateral power that the performers hold. By enjoying the exciting spectacle, their fans have willingly become mindless followers—idol worshippers who are too misguided, and naive, to see they’re being led toward their own destruction.Still, as Huntrix finally steals the show, the movie shows the singers and the audience as equals. The animation literally transforms the fans’ love into a superpower beyond themselves, as neon ribbons shoot out of their hearts to envelope the girls onstage and, eventually, the entire crowd. The Honmoon is sealed, though as the audience roars and screams Huntrix’s name, they never seem to realize that they are the ones who have saved themselves.